Motherly affection
by restandrelaxation
Summary: The progression of Harry's relation with his mother.


Disclaimer: Not my story. just posting this for fun. if the original author wants me to take this down please contact me.

Since my parents divorced I've moved around a lot with my Mom, so far I've lived in the houses of 4 of her "new" husbands until they became "ex" husbands too, and by the time I turned 19 I made her promise not to even bother introducing me to her boyfriends, if it wasn't going to last, and let's face it the odds were stacked that way, then I didn't need to even acknowledge his passing.

In the style of most reasonably well off divorcee single mothers, my Mom had a habit of giving me exactly what I wanted more often than not, and so it was that we had "our" house and she only ever visited her new men at theirs.

Without wanting to sound arrogant I need to let you know a little about the sexual history of our little family before I get into this one memory in particular. My Mom, Lily Evans, is a stunning woman, not tall, red hair, but thanks to her die-hard exercise regimes she has stayed as fit and toned as when she was a state representative in High School Tennis. Plus, the subtlety dressed cleavage from her generous bosom is a sure fire way of getting the attention of men the world over. Mom has always been very popular with guys, and she has the dazzling smile and self-assured sense of humour that comes with it, even when discussing sex openly with me. Growing up around her, the apple didn't fall far from the tree, and the open talks about sex still didn't come early enough as I lost my virginity to older girls within a month of beginning puberty.

The relationship that we have is a very close one, we have fought a lot in the past, and as a teenager I know I used fights to try to get my way wielding the divorce like a weapon against her, but it is safe to say that especially now that I've grown up into quite a solid guy, I am very protective of her and she still thinks I'm the most perfect person on the face of the earth. It's nice.

That relationship took a bizarre twist recently however, we were living in our house on the coast, Mom was visiting her current boyfriend most nights and I had a girl that I was sharing my own bed with regularly too. As much as Mom tried to hint that she was a lovely girl that I shouldn't risk losing, I wasn't even going to entertain the thought of a relationship beyond casual sex, and that subject usually led to me trying to find some way of teasing Mom in return.

Playing on her libido seemed like an effective way of doing just that, using the fact that I was getting sex in her house and she couldn't to really get under her skin and change the subject until she was the one needing to walk away.

I know, sometimes children can be cruel. But in our relationship, Mom loved me too much not to just take my cheekiness with a grain of salt and have a long hot "shower" to ease her discomfort.

I felt like king of the world those nights.

Two weeks ago I started taking it too far, enjoying the power of actually winning a verbal joust with Mom so much that I would persuade Lavander , my gorgeously leggy but none too intelligent blonde "lover", to give me blowjobs in the living room on nights that I knew Mom would be coming home. I don't know for sure, but seeing the look of silent shock and envy on my Mom's flushed face upon seeing me sitting there on the sofa facing her, my arms behind my head as Lavander's blonde ponytail slurped and bobbed on my throbbing cock probably tipped me to blow my load down Lavander's throat sooner than usual.

No doubt knowing that it was me being a brat, Mom never interrupted or made things awkward while Lavander was around, and so I continued, walking from the shower with my erection out in the cool air and giving Lavander loud orgasms (not that this particular girl had any other kind) with the door open just enough for the sound to carry down the hallway.

I was winning, and considering how sharp witted and confident my Mom had always been, this was a rare feeling that I wasn't just savouring, but relishing to excess.

Within three nights, although I only recognise it now, Mom started fighting back in her own way.

First of all she stopped showing any shock or jealousy of my overt sexual activity, instead smiling knowingly and giving me encouragement. This on its own disappointed me, but even without the victorious feeling of making her uncomfortable, the new sensation of having approval to get laid all over the house was thrilling of its own right.

Secondly I started to notice Mom as a woman more and more, her perfectly shaped ass raised in an inviting yoga position when I walked into the living room, her dark nipples hard against the thin material of her nightie as she came into my room to talk to me about seemingly irrelevant things, and even dropping her towel a split second before entering her bedroom giving me not enough of a look to see her entire body before the door closed.

Just because I was getting sex in the house didn't mean I wasn't frustratingly horny the rest of the time, and I didn't even know she was doing it on purpose yet.

The next turning point was a conversation I'll never forget over breakfast, and although I was every bit as self-assured going into it, I realise now that my confidence is only as strong as Mom wants it to be.

As usual Mom was up early, soft cotton mini-shorts and a nice blue tank top showing off both her fitness and her curves, 38D breasts with hips to match, as she prepared some muesli and yoghurt for breakfast. I staggered into the kitchen topless, just my boxer-briefs between my morning glory and the morning air and slid onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

"Good morning Harry" she practically chirped, her energy making me feel lazy before I'd even said a word.

"Sure is, I'm a free man." I announced, and Mom immediately turned back to me for an explanation.

"No more Lavander, I told her last night that she was getting too attached, so I'm good to go again, starting today." Mom's obvious frustration at my "objectification" of women had long since ceased showing outwardly on her face, but she raised an eyebrow about some hidden thought and brushed past me to sit outside in the sun to eat.

I poured myself a glass of milk and followed her onto the balcony.

"You seem fine with the news, Mom. I thought you said you liked her?"

She just smiled knowingly up at me and gestured for me to sit.

"Yes Harry, she was a lovely girl, but I knew she wasn't the one for you, so there isn't much point getting upset over the inevitable is there."

This wasn't the reaction I had been looking for, so I pressed on,

"How do you know she wasn't the one for me?"

"Mother's know these things" she teased

"Oh ok then, Mother," I mocked, "What sort of girl is right for me then?"

Without a hesitation she smiled in a way that really annoyed me, and simply said something about leaving that for me to find out for myself.

"See! You don't know shit about it; you just don't want to admit that I'm more in control of my life than you are!" The words were a classic outburst, meant with complete sincerity but only because I was too annoyed to be thinking with any sort of sense.

Mom took it all with good grace and put down her spoon, turning in her chair to look me in the eyes with her baby blues, a gentle smile and a reassuring hand on my knee accompanying her 'wise words'.

"Darling, there is a reason that people say boys look for their mother in girls, and Lavander was practically the complete opposite of me, wasn't she. You need a strong woman with a brain."

It took me a while to think of anything to say to that, partially because at the moment of those words Mom caught my eyes flick towards her chest, but the words came out before my brain had any input.

"Oh, really? So I need a strong independent woman with brains, who isn't tall, who has red hair and big tits? Or do you just think because every other man in the world wants to be with you that I do to?"

"I'm not saying you want to be with me personally, but you already know that." She countered rather pointedly, but then her cheeky smile returned and she followed it by saying,

"But according to Freud and most people with any power of observation, part of you probably does want to sleep with me personally."

I scoffed loudly and made a dramatic exit back inside, rummaging aimlessly through the cupboard in search of my thoughts more than breakfast. After a minute or two I heard the sliding door close, and Mom wandered back in, her cheek mixed with concern.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I thought you could handle some teasing, isn't that what you're always telling me?"

I turned on her and fought to control my anger, rising to the obvious challenge

"Don't worry Mom, I'm the one that's sorry for making you so uncomfortable this past week, I thought you could handle being sexually open with me, isn't that what you're always telling me?" I spat back at her.

Breaking into a broad grin, Mom put her half-eaten bowl of muesli on the counter and looked me square in the eyes, her tongue moistening her lips in a way that I couldn't help but notice.

"Ok then Harry, do you honestly believe you can handle being that sexually open with me? I'm willing to take it if you can." She was challenging me in the most obvious way she ever had, but I was too fired up to even consider turning her down.

"Of course I do! You're the one that got all weird about it, remember!" I practically laughed back at her.

"Ok then, being perfectly open with me, let's talk about why I'm wrong in saying you have a little crush on me."

My face must have fallen a little or something, because she was onto me and pressing home the advantage before I could even form a sentence that was decipherable from nervous gibberish.

"Since you're not uncomfortable talking to me about sex, I'd love to know what elements of the Oedipus complex you have and haven't explored... have you spied on me in the shower?"

My face threatened to burn up, but I was every bit as stubborn as her, so I held firm.

"Once or twice when I was 15, yeah."

"Ok, I know for a fact that you've listened to me having sex at my bedroom door."

"Sure, anything else then Dr. Kerry Freud" I tried to mock her in return, but it had no impact on her whatsoever.

"I hear that some boys try to sneak cum into their Mom's food so they can get off on the idea of her eating it, have you ever tried that?"

By this stage I was feeling pretty unshakeable, so I confidently told her that I'd never even thought about it, and as much as I see that she's a gorgeous woman, I'm obviously not Oedipus and I'm not uncomfortable.

As true as that statement was, it didn't stay true for long.

"I can see that Harry, I'm very impressed, but if you haven't tried it how do you know you don't feel that way about it?" I didn't register what she was saying until she picked up the bowl of muesli again.

"Since we're so comfortable with one another being open like this, maybe you should top up the yoghurt content of this for me, and we'll find out if you like the sight of me swallowing it?"

I don't know what words I used to try to seem unfazed, I don't know how much I denied any interest in the idea, but the beginnings of a erection were obvious against the thin boxers shorts I was wearing, and to compensate for that I could only agree 'off-hand' to try it, even just because she wanted to know.

I reached for the bowl and headed for my room but Mom stopped me with a raised eye-brow.

"You didn't have a problem with me watching you last week?" she suggested, and I knew in the pit of my stomach I had to do it right there in front of her.

"I was just going to get some Porn..." I offered weakly, only to have Mom offer to show me her breasts to see if it would help.

Even the mention of it helped significantly, and soon my boxers were practically hanging from the end of my cock rather than covering it.

Stepping nervously out of the discarded underwear I positioned the bowl of muesli nearby and began to stroke my shaft, trying to seem casual even as my Mom rolled up her tank top to reveal her perfect breasts, the nipples growing hard in the cold morning air and the top pressing down slightly to enhance the roundness of the D cup beauties.

I don't know what was a stranger sensation, locking eyes briefly with her as she bit her lip and blushed slightly in sympathetic pleasure, or when her green eyes lingered on the movement of my hand along the length of my throbbing cock, and the look in her eye that filled me with so much self-assurance.

Without a word one of her hands slipped down beneath the waistband of her shorts and as her finger entered her pussy her lips parted and a gentle gasp of pleasure reached my ears.

In that moment I shuddered, closed my eyes and thick globs of my cum shot out into the bowl, strands and drips of more watery semen following until I was panting heavily, my empty cock rapidly shrinking again as I reached for a tissue to wipe myself clean.

When I looked back up, Mom was dressed again, no sign of having continued to masturbate, and she was reaching for the bowl, seeming to admire the new topping with a practiced eye.

"You are a healthy young man, aren't you?" she smiled, and somehow it was a sincere complement.

"Are you going to eat that?" I asked, not sure whether she had already proved a point or not.

"Of course, anything my son puts so much effort into preparing for me, I will eat happily" She grinned, and as I watched she used her spoon to scoop a large amount of the cum off the top, taking barely any muesli with it.

As the spoon reached her mouth she closed her eyes and tipped it, letting the cum slide off the spoon and over her lip and tongue down her throat before sucking the rest off the spoon itself. With a murmur of enjoyment she swallowed it all down and began mixing the rest of the cum through the muesli before pausing to regard me again.

"You taste good, and I'll leave the discussion of whether you enjoyed watching me for another morning. I'm glad you're so comfortable being open with me Harry."

Again, she was being sincere and I had nothing to say to her in reply.

"And sweetheart, if you ever have any other questions about sex, please do feel free to ask me." And with that she took the muesli back out into the sun to finish in peace.

For the next week and a half the feelings awakened by watching Mom gulp down that cum soaked muesli drove me back into the world of dimmed lights and internet pornography. Always thinking of her.

Porn of my had Mom given me the fright of my life once upon a time, browsing through the retro magazines of my Father's collection when holidaying at his house one summer I found a photoshack envelope with only three developed shots inside it, all of them the teen version of my Mom laid out on the bed with her nubile pink nipples bared on her then C cup breasts, pink underwear covering her thatch of pubic hair in one of the three photos, while she bent over the bed with her tight pussy showing in the last shot.

I may be exaggerating the quality of the photos of course, because all I really remember seeing was the familiar face of my Mom looking barely 18, and poses that strongly resembled those in the centrefolds nearby. At that point in my life, even the fantasy of incest was shocking and unappealing, and I didn't masturbate for a week and a half after that.

Years later when the secret urge to see her sexualised burned within me, I started searching the old photo albums and envelopes in my Mom's collection, book marking the page with her in a classic bikini and almost yelling for joy when I found the photo of her sunbathing topless in Cancun. Moving house and remarrying so many times will lead to a constant turnover of what other people might consider prized memories however, and within a year of my discoveries the photo albums and the young breasts of my Mom were gone, never to be seen by my horny eyes again.

Of course, all that was in the past.

Having seen the full 38D breasts of my more mature Mom only last week, not to mention the satisfied smirk that played across her lips as she casually ate my cum as if it were a rich and creamy yoghurt, the need to see her and have her was eating me alive.

Outwardly I was the same arrogant young man, teasing Mom with my muscled upper body as I swam in the pool, not hiding my morning glory before giving her a loving hug and a peck on the lips before breakfast. But inside it was all I could think about.

I tried spying on her in the shower, but there's no keyhole and the window is frosted.

I tried listening to her masturbate and have sex, but mostly she just went to her boyfriend's house for that, and otherwise she just had longer showers.

A few times I pumped more cum into her food or drink to serve her while we watched DVDs of an evening, but if she noticed the taste she didn't make anything of it.

Mom's ass in the air and her back arched during yoga became a spectator sport, but I still couldn't justify getting my cock out and jerking it while watching her there in the living room, so I just got horny and frustrated.

Her cleavage held tight by her bikini top as she emerged from the swimming pool, her tanned skin glistening with the water as she gently rubbed herself dry with a towel.

Again I was powerless to do anything but watch, and wait under the surface of the water for my raging erection to subside.

Which brings me back to porn.

In the absence of having any control over fucking my actual Mom, I stopped looking at tall blonde teens and started obsessively searching the internet for MILFs that looked like Mom. I searched by height and bra size, I only wanted redheads and I needed the breasts to be natural so they would look the same as my painfully arousing memory.

I couldn't find anything like what I wanted.

I even spent two hours in photoshop attaching my Mom's face to the most similar pornstar body, and only after cumming all over a fistful of tissues did I realise how pathetic I had become.

It wasn't anyone's fault but my own, I still loved my Mom, she was more beautiful and fantastic than ever, smiling and laughing in that way that always made me feel better about myself, but with enough of a harsh ridicule that I didn't feel pitied.

Over dinner that night I was almost ready to take my plate into the cavern my bedroom had become, to delete the photoshop abomination and search the internet for a better alternative when Mom's small fingers grasped my wrist firmly and she fixed her kind blue eyes on mine sternly.

"What is it Harry?" her tone suggested that she needed to know, right now. But there's no way in the world I would ever tell her the exact reason for that particular melancholy, so I made do with a forced smile and a brush-off, but it didn't work.

"It's a girl thing isn't it. I've noticed you haven't been bringing anyone home this last week or so, and you're certainly spending a lot of time on the computer in your room. Did some girl break your heart? Or have you suddenly decided that porn is better than sex?" The last part was delivered with a cheeky smile. She obviously knew that wasn't the case, but she also wanted me to know my activity of choice was obvious too.

"Nothing like that, just not feeling it at the moment is all." I managed to admit.

"Well, if you want to save the internet usage for more constructive downloads and you feel like a technological challenge to take your mind off the porn for a while, I'm sure the computer in the living room must have some porn hidden on it somewhere, you know what James was like." The fact Mom was still so open and comfortable with talking about masturbation and porn with me was reassuring, and the mention of her ex didn't actually worry me as I realised she was right. What used to be the "family" computer had been used only by Mom for checking her e-mails since I got my own set-up in my bedroom, but the hours of porn the James had downloaded wouldn't have gone anywhere. I smiled at her and couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah thanks Mom, I've always wanted hand-me-down porn."

Her hand on my knee was meant only as a reassuring gesture, but I couldn't help but feel the warmth spread to my groin.

"It should be fine Harry, we never had a webcam or anything so you aren't going to stumble across James himself, it's more like a home delivery of the best of the internet."

Again, I couldn't help laughing and my smile became warmer and more genuine as I turned and headed for my room. Not for any reason other than I found myself continuing to walk in that direction, but Mom's last barb made me glad I wasn't facing her when I heard it.

"And you can keep using my food for target practice if that's helping too."

The stash of porn wasn't exactly a challenge to locate, I did a search for hidden video and image files and within 10 minutes had folders of x-rated material to sort through.

Not only did James have a stash of porn, but by the looks of things there were at least two other "hidden" collections dating back earlier into the life of this PC.

Most of the stuff in James's collection was pretty generic, celebrity upskirts and fakes mixed with stolen sex-tape footage and then folders and folders of free sample videos from other websites. Nothing that screamed "Mom" to me, so I skimmed the thumbnails and moved on.

The next collection I found was a little more disturbing, mostly teen videos and images from porn sites, but with one or two digital photos of my step-sister and her girlfriends in their swimwear, and a couple of one of my ex-girlfriends sun bathing in hers.

I guess the mature men Mom had dated and married weren't into mature women in their porn, but I checked the last folder anyway.

This had lots of downloaded Amateur videos, guys and girls going at it on grainy camcorder footage from years gone by. It was probably the best of the collections, but I was a little disappointed that the 5'6 38D redhead MILF search I had started hadn't come up with much more success than when I was on my own computer on the internet.

And that's when I found it.

In that same Amateurs collection I found the clip that got me the most excited out of anything I had been able to find on the internet. A mature amateur on her knees with a hard cock in her hand and another in her mouth, breasts that looked almost indentical to the memory of Mom's bouncing beneath a rolled up top. I made a quick note of the file destination for later and nearly died.

While the other amateur videos had been from the same community share website as this one, this was the only one with the word "uploads" in its title.

As I opened the clip to full-screen and watched the full 30 seconds play out, I realised that not only did it look like my Mom, it was my Mom.

The kitchen floor was the one from a house we had 2 years earlier, and I watched over and over again as my Mom's lips and hands played up and down the shafts of those two lucky bastards in the clip, her 38Ds bouncing and shaking, her nipples hard and her breathing heavy with excitement as her other hand flicked her clit beneath her skirt.

Turning up the volume I could hear her moan, muffled by the hard cock filling her mouth, before she leaned back and both men started cursing, before thick white ropes of cum landed on her face and her tits.

I hadn't realised, but from the moment I recognised her in the clip I had started rubbing my own meat, pulling the swollen member from my shorts and pumping it frantically with my hand, eyes glued on the replaying action on the screen.

Pausing the clip in an instant where her green eyes seemed to look through the lens of the camera right at me with that horny smile, I blew a full load across the screen itself, covering her face with my own brand of yoghurt with no consideration of the consequences as I slumped, panting, into the chair to recover.

"When you clean that up, make sure you use the Windex from under the sink."

I don't know how long Mom had been watching me, but even those words didn't break my mood as I sat there with eyes closed, content in the sensation I had just experienced.

I would find out what it felt like to have her expert lips suck the cum out of me like that, I promised myself that day. If Mom was going to be this comfortable around me, I was going to get comfortable within her.

"Ok, Mom, sure." I called back, before closing my eyes again with a satisfied grin.

Every night that week the last thing I did before going to sleep was watch that clip and masturbate to the thought of being one of those two men, and even during the day it was in the back of my mind.

My friends and all other girls took a backseat to my desire for my Mom, but not to the point that I cut all ties with my previously thriving social life.

That Saturday night one of my best friends and I staggered home from the club to crash, too much alcohol and dancing to be thinking clearly, and cracking open a bag of crisps and another bottle of bourbon, we continued the rowdy conversations in front of the TV.

It wasn't long before we were opening up with secrets and fantasies, and before I knew it I decided that Ron and I would be the perfect men to recreate the home movie with Mom. I showed him the clip, and he was more than enthusiastic, and we did everything possible to wake Mom so we could put our best moves to work.

"Sounds like a real party in here tonight boys." She was wearing a light blue cotton robe, and all I could do was imagine what was underneath.

"You're welcome to join us Mom!" I practically shouted, and Ron slammed down a calming swig of the bourbon as his eyes bulged.

"Hi Mrs Potter..." he chimed in nervously, only to have Mom fix those green eyes on him.

"Call me Lily, Ron." She smiled

"Have a drink Mom, I'll be back in a minute."

As excited as I was, my mind racing ahead of me practically eye-fucking my Mom, the copious amounts of drink had me desperate for the bathroom, and I steadied myself with a hand against the wall as I hurried to the toilet.

Looking in the bathroom mirror I splashed cold water on my face, and then my genitals, to ready myself for the big moment ahead. My resolve steeled, I quickly fixed my hair and with a confident grin returned to the living room.

I'm not sure what I had expected to see, but this certainly wasn't it.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen bench filling a jug with iced water, Ron was curled up on the sofa half-asleep.

"We need to have another little chat, Harry." She began, and I knew that my fantasies were dashed.

"What about?" When drunk, I'm terribly transparent.

"About you and young Ron wanting to sleep with me tonight, among other things."

Apparently Ron had tried to seduce her as soon as I left the room, but as smooth as he was with girls our age, Mom had been rejecting men of all ages since before I was born. The poor guy never stood a chance.

Thankfully, the sheer amount of drink combined with his need to feel unbeatable meant he never mentioned any of that night's events, and after Mom left us with the water and her advice to "Get some rest." I wished I could forget it too.

Since then, all I can do is want her and hate myself for it.

No other girl compares with the fantasy of my Mom, but the rejection of that night amplified by the hangover of the next day are fresh in my mind too.

Every night I've thought about her as I sit half-naked on the end of my bed, a slideshow of visually arousing memories of her flashing through my mind as I drift off to sleep, knowing that I'll most likely wake with my drained cock in my hand and another stain on my sheets. Even when I dream I masturbate over her.

Last night as I drifted off, some unknown sight or sound stirred me into sitting up, my bedroom door ajar and no direct light from anywhere else in the house.

As always my thoughts strayed to Mom, wondering if I had heard her walking to the kitchen for a midnight glass of water, tempted as always to investigate in the hopes of seeing her naked.

With that motivation in my mind, I slipped my legs to the floor and flicked on the bedside lamp.

It was Mom.

She was standing in the doorway and I nearly died.

Her short red hair framing her face, a subtle shade of red lipstick on those gorgeous lips and her cheeks pinched with a hint of some emotion I couldn't define.

Her strong shoulders were bare, the tanned skin stretching uninterrupted up the line of her arm where her hand rested on the door frame, and her perfect cleavage supporting a sheer black negligee that hung down to just below her full hips, revealing her smooth strong legs in full.

"Harry."

Her voice was low and smooth, like warm honey, and I continued to hold my breath in anticipation, not wanting to risk breaking whatever illusion this was with the sound of my own voice.

"I'm sorry for leading you on all this time, we need to finish this. Are you ok with that?" She stepped forward into the light of my room, and the full view of her round nipples and her smoothly waxed mound drew my eye through the sheerness of the strapless negligee.

All I managed was a nod.

"I love you Harry, don't ever forget it."

I sat on the edge of my bed and watched this goddess kneel at my feet and start unfastening my shorts and all I could do was think about those words.

"I love you too Mom."

Usually in the bedroom I am in complete control, but as Mom gently pushed me down onto my back and pulled my underwear clear of my ankles, I felt like a young boy with no power over anything, not even myself.

Her hands were warm, soft but firm as she first cupped my scrotum and then began to stroke and rub my shaft, the blood pumping into it from the first sight of her stunning figure in the doorway until she was massaging the biggest erection I've ever mustered.

With her bosom pressing through the smoky negligee as she leaned forward, her green eyes fixed on mine and her red lips pursed to lay a tender kiss on the head of my cock, I was already fighting the urge to cum, and with her mouth and hand working together with amazing skill, I watched as my aching member slid between those lips and disappeared inch by inch into her hot wet mouth.

My stomach was tensed, my jaw was clenched and the slow gliding of Mom's tongue and mouth up and down the length of my shaft sent fire racing through my veins, my eyes closing despite the amazing visage of her kneeling before me in an attempt to control myself in the face of overwhelming pleasure.

Taking a moment, Mom's hand brushed along my bare chest to touch my face, her voice warm and comforting.

"It's ok Harry, cum if you need to, we have all night for you to impress me with your stamina."

My defences dissolved in that moment, and with my head turned away and my back arching I gave in to the building pressure. The burning sensations of Mom's mouth and hands replaced by the sole sensation of relief as I felt my tensions squirt out of me with every gasp, the liquids disappearing into her throat without issue as she cleaned my penis with her waiting mouth.

"Good" She encouraged, "Now show me you love me with those amazing kisses of yours."

As she crawled up over the edge of the bed on top of me, the touch of her breasts against my naked stomach and chest had an immediate effect on me.

My hands eagerly embraced the smooth curve of the bared section of Mom's glorious ass as I guided her up above me, and then my left hand brushed the side of her face as our lips met in a long and passionate kiss. As her hot tongue entwined with mine I could taste myself in her mouth, and my erection began to swell again, pressing slightly up against the softest part of her inner thigh.

The way she kissed me was even more sensual than having her suck my meat so beautifully, and as the kiss grew more insistently animal I realised how much she wanted me to fuck her properly. Just because she was my Mom didn't mean I couldn't be a man.

Even as my hands untied her negligee and cast the sheer material aside, Mom was reaching back through her legs to grip my hard-on firmly in her hand, bringing it up to meet her wet labia as she manipulated her pelvis expertly up and over until all my attention was on the over riding sensation of her juicy pussy cresting the head of my cock, then consuming it whole with one moan inducing downward thrust.

Compared to the girls I was used to Mom wasn't tight, but once she had me inside her she engaged her pelvic floor and my eyes widened at the idea that her slippery pussy had suddenly gripped my shaft like a vice.

Looking up at Mom straddling me I couldn't take my eyes off her, the bottom lip folded beneath her teeth, those blue eyes intense with lust and her face flushed from pent-up needs and desires.

All seductive half-smiles and gentle flirtation was gone, the woman riding my cock was a perfect machine of sex, an animal in search of orgasm, and I was the one that had to give her what she craved.

With my entire length already thrust deep inside her there was no control of upward thrusting that I could bring her, and as her stomach muscles rippled with tension and her pelvis ground down against mine, rolling forward and back with practiced rhythm, her fingernails gouging my muscular chest and her head tilted back as she moaned louder, I struggled to see how my male dominance would ever emerge.

Not wanting to disappoint, I looked to the two most obvious signs of her womanhood, those breasts that had tormented my dreams for so long, 38D and hanging bare naked in front of me, wearing only a slight sheen of our combined sweat as they heaved and wobbled with the motion of the intense incestual ride.

My tongue played across each nipple, my strong hands massaged each breast firmly and my kisses added a sharp element of tooth as I teased and nibbled where I had once fed, rolling the now erect nipples between thumb and forefinger when Mom's gasping mouth forced mine up into a sloppier and more desperate kiss.

My ass was being forced down through the mattress as Mom's amazing hips worked her g-spot against my now throbbing cock, deeper and faster as her breathing shallowed with mine.

Somehow I felt like I was going to cum all over again, and kissing her deeply on the salty mouth brought that closer to reality as she moaned her pleasures into me, still grinding and riding, still bouncing and swaying.

As the inside of her pussy clenched and released over and over, I watched with a grin as the climax of orgasm played across her toned stomach, her muscles tensing and shaking, her breasts almost vibrating in sympathy to the shuddering wail of ecstasy that wracked her body.

I didn't cum as I had expected to, but having Mom arch her back so wildly above me drove me closer to it, and my determination to fuck her instead of just letting her have her way with me hardened in unison with my now glistening cock.

As her doe-eyed face pulled in for more tender kisses, I pressed up against her with the palm of my hand, rolling and twisting until we were side by side on my bed. With one last kiss on her gorgeous lips, I slipped down and began to eat her pussy.

The taste of her juices was amazing, her lips swollen and pink, moisture practically running between her thighs even before my tongue made contact with her engorged clitoris, her fingers running through my hair as she sought to bring my face deeper into her wetness, her stomach twisting and back arching as the sensitive areas within her were lashed by my thick wet tongue in a frenzy of determined control.

When I surfaced minutes later, Mom was staring at me with a mixture of lust and pride, her smile betraying her relief as I kissed her cum back to her.

"I knew you would be amazing sweetheart, I knew."

Despite her self-assured control, I was breathing too heavily and aching too much to form words in reply, but with her beauty laid out on her back like that, I wasn't about to stop.

Spreading her eager sex and forcing myself to penetrate one slow inch at a time, I thrived on the reaction that played across her face, my thickness registering a need for her to bite that sexy lip before I began to push off the floor, my full height and weight behind every thrust as I held her at the edge of the bed and built up a more furious pace with every deep thrust into her.

Her legs caught me by surprise as they wrapped right up around my head and shoulders, pulling me down to her as she rubbed her breasts and sought to kiss me again.

With a strong hand forcing her to go without, I pushed her back down, hooking those legs above my shoulders and slamming my entire length deep into her, fucking her as forcefully as I could manage without a moments hesitation.

"God, yes Harry, fuck me. Fuck me!"

Sweat was pouring down my face, my chest, my ass, but I kept pumping Mom with my now tingling cock, the skin all over both our bodies so sensitive to the touch that even a gentle brush of a hand was draw tension and reaction as much as the furious passion that was my cock working inside her pussy.

She noticed the exact moment when I started to cum, the hesitation as my every muscle tensed in anticipation and her legs brought me slamming down against her, deep within her, completely with her. Even as I felt my cock lose all control, shuddering and releasing its fluids, Mom's stomach flared more than before, her lips locking onto mine and her tongue thrashing about inside my mouth with reckless abandon.

Her back arched, my legs weakened, we both tried to moan but the kiss continued and then we were both exhausted and empty. A heaving, sweaty embrace of Mother and Son, still intertwined sexually but somehow more comfortable just being together.

Her fingers brushed through my hair and she gave me a tender peck on the lips, and then she was leaving, my spent frame collapsing off her into my bed as she gathered her discarded negligee and moved to the door.

"Thankyou Harry, I don't expect that will be the last time, now goodnight."

And with those gentle words drifting in my head, I pulled the bed sheet up over my withering wet cock and gave in to the deepest sleep of my life.


End file.
